I sat in the consultation room with my chin leant on a fist, whilst the forefinger tapped my cheek slowly. My face was twisted in deliberation, pondering over my patient’s presentation and the how best to broach the subject.
“Hmmm . . . ” my eybrows furrowed, “does it hurt?”
“It smarts a bit. Uncomfortable I’d say.”
My patient stood directly in front of me, trousers and boxers round his ankles, family jewels thrust forward in presentation. They had an inguinal hernia. A very obvious inguinal hernia at that. So obvious, their intestines had bulged and spilled out from the inguinal origin in their lower abodomen, and ballooned the left scrotum to at least 5x the normal size. It pushed the gentleman’s “trouser snake” way off to their right, and his ball-sack hung close to his knee.
“Yes. I can imagine”
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